


Put To Sleep Those Mines and Rest Your Weary Mind

by potterwholocktrekian



Series: Rehabilitation [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:50:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterwholocktrekian/pseuds/potterwholocktrekian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or the Rehabilitation of a Prince, a Soldier and the Twins<br/>Loki begins the journey to acceptance by S.H.I.E.L.D, but he won't be the only one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here I am, back again. Sooner than I expected, actually. This is the sequel to An Arrangement of Sorts, so it is not going to make any sense unless you have read that. Also that is the worst summary to anything I have ever written and I hope the fic itself is better.  
> P.S, this story is going to deviate massively from the canon set out by Age of Ultron and CATWS  
> P.P.S don't judge this fic by it's first chapter, it's a slow start but it is going to get better I swear. I've actually planned out everything this time (unlike the previous fic) so things are actually going to make sense.

“ _There_ _will be no sadness in life once life comes to terms with sadness_.” The words of an inexpeirienced mind, so it seemed. That mind being Dr Amos, a perfectly amicable S.H.I.E.L.D assigned psychologist responsible for ‘monitoring’ Loki. She repeated that phrase at the beginning of each session, infuriatingly so as Loki had very much come to terms with his ‘sadness’ yet he was still required to attend these sessions. It possibly had something to do with the fact that Loki in no way felt _sad_. And yet every single psychologist was determined to tell him he was. The whole concept was nauseating, but unfortunately required in the gaining of trust from S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury.

He stood at the foot of Stark Tower, glancing up at the obnouxiously large STARK above him. Loki smirked to himself, remembering that fateful day in which he decided to pay a visit to Tony Stark. Not that long ago, he would never have been able to picture himself in this situation; a long-lasting relationship, somewhere that he would not mind calling home and, dare he say it, friends. As he stepped inside the elevator, he concluded that life, bar the idiotic psychoanalysis he must endure, was actually really rather good. Well, good for _Loki_. The bar was not exactly set very high. He still was considered a villain by the majority of Midgard and thus he was confined to the Tower, the limited square-footage of sidewalk that lay in front of it, and of course the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility where he received his ‘therapy’.

The elevator doors opened to chaos, and certainly not the kind of chaos that Loki relished in. The room was a mess; pizza boxes strewn across most surfaces, bottles of beer on the rest, the cushions of the couch were in a mysterious pile in the corner of the room and not a soul in sight.  
“I was gone for 3 hours” Loki sighed, loudly to make sure at least someone would hear, “I may not be an Avenger but I am certainly not your _maid_.”  
The pile of couch cushions began to move slightly, and a certain giggle emanated from within. Loki approached with caution, and peeled back the blanket that rested on top of the pile. He sighed again, the second time in mere minutes. Sat cross legged in the midst of the cushions was Thor and Clint, beer bottles to their sides and a card game in the middle.  
“Uh, could you, y’know, not do that? We’re in the middle of a serious card game. There’s money and alcohol bet on this.” Clint whined and Thor gave a vague grunt in assent. Loki truly resided in a house of the mad.

He decided it would be best to leave the two children to their own devices, instead resolving to make his way to wherever Tony was. JARVIS responded to Loki’s question with a “Where he normally is” so he made his way down to the workshop, exactly where he had left him 3 hours prior.

“Tony, do you mind explaining _when_ exactly a bomb went off upstairs?” Loki asked jokingly as he entered the workshop.  
“Oh, there was a…thing…” Tony muttered as he made some alteration to the hologram he was surrounded by. He seemed distracted, unusual for him as he was perfectly capable of holding a rather entertaining conversation whilst working out equations in his head. So for him to seem so distant triggered alarm bells for Loki.  
“Is something the matt-“ But before Loki could even finish the question, Tony had thrown down the pen he had been holding, proceeding to sit on the floor in the centre of the blue light. Loki immediately rushed over to him and sat down in front of where he was sat, taking his hand and rubbing circles into his skin. He did not speak, for he knew that if Tony wanted to talk he would do so.  
“I never used to do this, you know. Never used to get so angry when something didn’t work. I guess I just didn’t care about things like that before I met you. And then I knew what it was like to have something _great_ just within your reach and lose it, lose you. Now, I can’t stand the fact that every lead I have is nothing. And what’s worse is no one seems to care. You saw them up there.” Tony paused, took a breath and sighed, “Maybe the Winter Soldier just isn’t meant to be found.”  
“Something must truly be wrong when you turn to Fate for your answers.” Loki smirked, leant over and kissed Tony, knowing this was the only solace he could offer.

“Uh, we can come back later…”  
“Shut up, Steve. Hey, we want to talk to you guys.” Natasha smiled as they got up, pleased, “Look, Tony, we hardly ever see you anymore, even _Loki_ is around more than you. You spend all day every day cooped up in this workshop which, honestly, has started to smell. We’re worried about you.”  
“Nat’s right, do you even eat?” Steve chimed in.  
“Of course I eat-”  
“Only because I bring you food.” Loki added, earning a betrayed look from Tony.  
“Do you shower?” Natasha asked.  
“What kind of a que- of course I shower!”  
“I doubt he would without my reminders.” JARVIS’ voice elaborated.  
“You too? Look, _sorry_ that I’m doing my job. I’ve been trying to find this goddamn Winter Soldier, but he is _nowhere_! Nothing I do, nothing I make can find him! Do you know how frustrating that is? To realise that everything you’ve made is worthl-“

“Apologies for the interruption, sir, but it looks like one of our leads has pulled through.”  
The room fell into silence.  
“Where?”  
“Midtown Manhattan, New York City.”

* * *

 

**_ Order 0394:  _ ** _Kill Loki Laufeyson. Stark Tower. New York City._

He stood across the street from Stark Tower, working out his plan of action. 93 stories was too high to climb, he would be noticed before he could get close. Entering the building through the front door would be too high profile, chances were that this Stark had security down there. Protocol 42 it was then. He briefly spoke into the comms and then made his way down the nearest alley he could find. The fire escape was easily accessible, allowing him to make his way to the roof of the building, where the Stealth Jet was waiting for him.

The jet dropped him on the Tower balcony. He was visible, he needed to be fast. He had not been noticed yet though, so stealth was still required. The balcony led him to an empty room, save for couches and trash all over the floor. He controlled his footsteps so that they made no sound and continued on. He took a right, through more rooms who’s only inhabitants were furniture.

The last room was empty, save for a figure at the back of the room, turned away from the entrance. This was his man. Through the sight, he took the shot. The noise was suppressed, but not enough, he needed to leave now. He turned, without checking that his target had fallen, and left the way he came.

He rounded the corner that would take him back to the balcony, only this time he was met with a body, who knocked him down and pinned him to the ground. He felt his mask being torn off, he struggled, he tried to hook his leg around something, anything that would give him an advantage but found nothing.

“Bucky?” A broken voice sounded from the weight on his chest. Who the hell was Bucky, he thought.

A gunshot rang and the Winter Soldier blacked out.


	2. Activation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this one took its time. I literally have such writers block with my fics, and then I lose confidence and don't want to update. But i'm here now, and I'm sorry but its angst (but that just seems to be my style now). Enjoy :)

It had been over 70 years since Steve had grieved like this, and no one was even dead this time. It felt ridiculous that the only emotion he could summon was grief for a living person, but it was the best he could do. For the first few hours he had been numb, as though someone had turned off all the lights in his head and asked him to find something. But now it was grief. His heart beat with an intensity only achieved in battle.

_Bucky was alive._ Bucky was **_alive_. ** The words were foreign to him, a wish from a lifetime ago. And yet here he was, looking through the barrier that contained his unconscious body. He recalled Tony’s words, _this isn’t him right now, Steve. Whoever he was to you, he won’t remember that, not yet_ but he refused to believe that Bucky would have given up on him now. No, after all those years of loyalty he wouldn’t abandon him now.

He was stood there for god knows how long before Natasha approached behind him, silent as always. Her arms were folded in such a way that gave the impression of hugging oneself, rather than indifference, and her eyes were soft and comforting as she looked up at Steve.  
“I knew him, in Russia. A lifetime ago now. He doesn’t look any older.” She chuckled humourlessly.   
“He hasn’t aged in all this time. He should be, what, nearly 100 now.” Steve wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but he could not summon the will.   
“He’ll be okay, Steve. He’s strong.” Natasha spoke in double meanings. Steve didn’t need her to tell him that though. He _knew_ Bucky, knew him more than he knew himself, memorised every single detail of his personality, he _knew_ he would be alright. He just hoped he was right.

The doctor approached them, with the cautious footsteps of someone who had broken too much bad news, been the final straw too many times.   
“Physically, he will be fine. He has lost his left arm, however someone has replaced it with a bionic prosthetic. The Director said they are bringing someone over to deactivate the weaponry we have detected inside. I’ve taken some blood samples to try to identify what has kept him looking young, it is apparently someone else’s attempt at a super-soldier serum. Mentally, we can’t be sure. He is heavily sedated now, though, so you can come into the room until this person comes to deactivate the arm.” She spoke with the same wariness afforded to her feet.

When she left, Natasha and Steve opened the door to Bucky’s hospital room. Hospital room was an overstatement; it implied he was a normal patient when, in Steve’s experience at least, normal patients were not handcuffed to their hospital beds, behind an invisible barrier which everyone knew was there. It was an odd sight, to see someone so vulnerable and broken being given the treatment of a villain.

_Please don’t let them think he is a villain_ , Steve sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening. He wasn’t particularly religious these days, but old habits and all. Besides, he knew he would need all the help he could get to make S.H.I.E.L.D understand.

“Yes, but Tony dearest, surely now is not the most appropriate of times. I was just targeted for _assassination_ , and whilst a holiday sounds delightful, shouldn’t we concentrate on the matter at hand?” Loki’s voice came through the open door and Steve was suddenly reminded that perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D _could_ be lenient at times.

Tony entered the room soon after Loki’s voice did, accompanied by a high-tech tool box and the god himself. He looked tired, but so did everyone. Letting Buck- the Winter Soldier get that close to killing Loki was hard for them all.   
“Hey, Cap. How’s Sleeping Beauty?”  
Steve jolted at the nickname, anger at the inappropriateness of it all bubbling up in his chest. Anger wouldn’t help, he told himself. He needed to stay calm, no matter how much Tony bugged him.   
“He’s alive,” Steve said, holding back the ‘ _for now’_ that sat on his tongue like the dead weight of a body.   
“Good, I’m going to go in there to deactivate his arm, are you alright to cover me? I know he’s heavily sedated but I don’t want to take any chances in case he wakes up.” Steve felt himself nodding, although he really did not want to. If something went wrong, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to put Bucky down.

A portion of the barrier disappeared as Tony pressed a few buttons on a nearby tablet. He and Tony entered the cell (because that’s all it was, this was no hospital but a prison) and the barrier sealed behind them. Taking a breath to calm him down, he approached Bucky first and, unaware of his actions, found himself kneeling beside the bed, taking in the sight of it all. It was never supposed to be like this, Bucky in the hospital bed with Steve watching over him. Bucky was supposed to protect _him_ , he should have been in this bed. Bucky was _his_ guardian angel, always his first sight when he regained consciousness, a halo of light surrounding him until his eyes adjusted. And when those first tears fell, it should have been Bucky wiping them away. He wasn’t prepared for this, for the grieving he had to go through all over again, grieving for the living. He couldn’t do this, he backed away slowly until he felt the barrier and his throat going hoarse from yelling. He couldn’t be here, why were they not opening the barrier.   
“ **Let me out!** ” he all but screamed as the barrier gave way and someone-Natasha- breaking his fall and Loki going in to take his place and _this was all wrong_.   
“Steve-Steve listen to me, can you hear my voice? Breathe with me, Steve, come on, in for 5, out for 7.” Natasha’s voice washed over him, like water dousing a fire. When he had calmed down enough, Natasha helped him up and away from the room.

Sat in a waiting room down the hall, Steve heard that phrase, that sickening phrase he had heard once before. This time it was screamed in a scratchy and wavering voice. It was a phrase that haunted his nights and attacked his days.

“SERGEANT 32557, BARNES!”

It came but once, and the whole world fell silent once more.


End file.
